


Getting There

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and Jim go grocery shopping and see something that takes them where they need to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting There

**Author's Note:**

> Not betaed. Just a short, sappy snippet of a "G". Mush alert. Will grovel for feedback.

## Getting There

by Pink Dragon

Author's disclaimer: Not mine. No profit. Sue me and all you'll get is 4 cats to feed and my unemployment check. 

* * *

It's after ten o'clock at night. Jim and I are tooling up and down the aisles at Albertson's, getting groceries. We worked late and there's no food in the house. Not for dinner tonight, or breakfast tomorrow. So we're shopping. We're tired, but content, pushing the cart through each section, Jim picking up cookies and potato chips, and those disgusting jellied orange slices that look like they'd glow in the dark. I'll have to check that out sometime. I know he expects me to object to all the junk he picks out, but he's an adult and if he wants to consider fat, salt, sugar and cholesterol to be the four major food groups, then I'll let him. At least he gets healthy meals when I cook. 

There're not many other people in the store. Jim likes to come late at night, when all the screaming kids are home in bed, so that's what we usually do. We tried shopping separately, but that didn't work. When Jim goes alone, we get no vegetables, no fruit, and plain, white bread. When I go alone, I skip the Twinkie aisle. It just wasn't working for either of us. So we finally decided we'd just go together. That way we can both get what we want. 

"Hey Jim." 

"Yeah?" 

"They've got hazelnut roast coffee on sale." 

"I hate that stuff, Sandburg." 

"You do?" 

"Yeah. It's not like it has real hazelnuts in it, you know." 

"Oh." 

"But if you want it, get it. I'll just make another pot of real coffee." He grins at me. 

"Okay, thanks man." I grab a can and toss it in the basket. 

"Sandburg, you don't have to thank me for letting you buy hazelnut coffee." 

"I know, Jim." I lean toward him and bump my shoulder into his arm as we continue down the aisle, hazelnut roast coffee sitting in the basket next to the regular coffee. Just then two men come around the end of the aisle, walking close, arms brushing against each other as they move together. Hmmm. Gay. Cute. Really cute. Dark and slender and almost pretty, both of them, one slightly taller than the other. The tall one catches my glance, looks at me for a couple of seconds, then nods his head to me. Just a slight movement. And I know, immediately, he thinks we're gay, too. And I wonder what Jim would think, if he knew that. And then the taller one puts his arm across the shoulders of the shorter one, and gives him a little squeeze, and they smile at each other. They're in love. Oh, man, what I wouldn't give to have Jim look at me like that. I used to think we'd get there, someday, but I'm not sure any longer. 

Then they're gone, and we're in the produce department, now. So I start picking up fresh veggies, and lots of fruit, putting it in the basket carefully. Jim hates it when the fruit gets bruised. If I buy it he actually will eat it, so I buy lots. "Take it easy on the fruit, Chief, we can always come back next week," he teases me, ruffling my hair. 

"Hey, you've got a month's supply Sno-Balls in there, leave me alone," I answer, grinning at him and trying to ruffle his hair. He ducks away from me, and laughs. I smack him on the back of the head, and he gets me in a headlock, right there next to the cabbage, and rubs my head hard with his knuckles. "Knock it off with the hair, man!" 

"Make me, Chief." 

"Just remember who cooks when you don't, man. Never know what I can slip into your food." 

"Like I couldn't tell." 

"Oh. Yeah." 

"Yeah, yeah." He grins at me and takes another swipe at me but I move away. And then we're walking calmly down the aisle again, past the cucumbers, and he leans into me, brushing his arm against mine. And it reminds me of the two men we saw in the coffee aisle, and I think, jeezus, we are gay, we just don't know it. So I think about that while we head to the checkout stand. While we get checked out and pay. Jim's turn to pay this week. He's doing the bagging cause he doesn't like the way the baggers do it, and finally we're done. 

When we get out to the parking lot and start putting the bags in the back of the truck the gay couple comes out. They've just got one bag each. They walk over to a vintage Corvette, the shorter one handing his bag to the taller one, then they lean against each other again, and kiss each other. Right there in the middle of the parking lot. And Jim sees it, and watches, and gets this strange little smile on his face. Then he turns and looks at me. I smile at him a little and think about that kiss while we put the last of the bags in the truck. 

A minute later we're pulling out of the lot and Jim glances over at me and says "You ever kiss a man, Sandburg?" 

"WHAT?!" I can't fucking believe he just came right out and asked me that. 

"Have you ever kissed a man?" I'm thinking fast and furious, what the hell am I gonna say? I quickly decide that he'll know if I lie, so I might as well just tell the truth. 

"Um, yeah, I have." I sound a little more defensive than I should. I could just tell him it's none of his business, but where's the fun in that? 

"You have?" 

"Yeah, few years ago. Haven't seen him in a long time. What about you? You ever kiss a man?" I ask him, just to get a rise out of him. He's so easy, sometimes. 

"No, never have." Ha. I thought so. "But I've wanted to." 

"WHAT?!" 

"I've wanted to. You heard me." 

"Yeah, I heard you, I just can't believe you told me that." 

"Well it's true." 

"Jesus, Jim, are you gay? How could I not know that about you?" 

"Well, I don't know if you could call me gay, exactly. I've only ever wanted to kiss one particular man, but I don't know if he'd want me to." 

"DON'T know, or DIDN'T know?" I'm starting to get a strange feeling here. 

"I DON'T know. As in present tense. 'Tense' being the operative word." 

"Why don't you just ask him?" 

"Because he's very important to me, and I couldn't stand to lose his friendship." He's got a death grip on the steering wheel, even I can see that his knuckles are white. 

"But if he wanted you to kiss him, wouldn't that be even better? Lovers instead of friends?" We're almost whispering now. The close confines of the truck giving us a sense of intimacy. 

"Is that a chance I should take, Chief?" 

"Never pass up a chance at love, Jim. It's too important to miss." 

"Hmm." 

And just when I think we might be getting there, 'us there', that's all he says about it. He keeps driving, and soon we're in front of our building and he parks the truck. We both get out and start grabbing bags out of the back. We consider it a challenge to try to get all of them in one trip. All the way up in the elevator, he's quiet. He puts enough bags down on the floor outside our door, so that he can get it unlocked. Then we're in, carrying bags to the kitchen and putting them on the countertop. We start putting things away, moving around each other with practiced ease, and he says "Want some soup?" 

"Yeah, that'd be good. I'm too tired to cook tonight." 

"Clam chowder okay?" 

"Yeah, sure." Wolfgang Puck Clam Chowder is Jim's new favorite. He dumps a can in each of two bowls and sticks them in the microwave. By the time the soup is hot, all the groceries are put away, the bags stuffed in the bag drawer. Yes, there's a bag drawer. Jim puts on his matching oven mitts and moves the bowls of soup to the table. I smile at him when he isn't looking. I get out crackers, and some cheddar cheese, and pickles, and put them all on the table. And we eat, chatting about cases we're working on. Nothing really big or important right now, except to the victims. Who are all alive and well, thank God, just permanently separated from something they considered theirs. Mostly cars. Most of which are probably out of the country by now. 

Soon, we're finished eating, and cleaning up, and Jim goes upstairs and takes off his work clothes and puts on comfy sweatpants, and a tee shirt. Goes in the bathroom for a minute, probably brushing his teeth. I do pretty much the same except I include a heavy pair of socks in the outfit. When I come out of the bathroom Jim has turned on the late news, turning the sound down low, so as not to bother the neighbors. I come in and sit on the opposite end of the couch. "So, Jim? Are you going to ask him, or not?" He knows right away what I'm talking about. 

"Yeah, Chief. When do you think would be a good time? I want to do this right." He answers softly, smiling sweetly at me. I'm melting inside, and I think he knows it. 

"Would now work?" I whisper back at him. I don't think I'm taking much of a chance in being wrong here. I know he's talking about us, he just hasn't said so, yet. But we're getting there. We're finally getting there. 

"Now works for me, Blair. Does it work for you?" He's staring at me intently, blue eyes glued to mine, watching every move, every nuance. 

"Yeah. Now works for me." He watches me carefully for about five seconds, then he finally says it. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

"Yeah, man, you can kiss me." He gives me this blinding smile, pure Jimsmile, and we meet each other, in the middle of the couch. Hands reaching out, tentative, and gentle. 

"Come here." He pulls me into his lap, straddling him. God, he's so calm. I feel like I'm gonna explode and he's as calm as can be. He smiles up at me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms, then my back. "Okay?" he says. 

"Very okay." I lean down, my hands against his chest, and put my forehead on his, watching him. And he cups my face in his hands, and brushes his mouth against mine, eyes open, wanting to see my reaction. His lips are warm and dry, soft against mine. And it's good, and sweet, but it's not enough. I don't want warm and soft and dry. I want hot and hard and wet. So I kiss him back. Part my lips, lick his mouth, and he opens to me, and I kiss him hard, plunging my tongue into his mouth, then pulling it out, wanting him to do the same to me. And he does. And I suck on his tongue, gently, sweetly, and it's so fucking good I'm gonna come in my pants. So we sit there just kissing each other, touching, learning each other. Both of us making little noises of pleasure. Now we're really getting there. 

"God Blair, that's so good...." He's nuzzling my cheek now, kissing my jaw, and my throat. 

"Wait, Jim." I pull away enough to look at him. 

"What babe?" I smile at him, he called me 'babe'. He smiles back at me. 

"Um, this isn't, like, a one-shot deal is it?" His face turns serious. 

"No Blair, this isn't a one-shot deal." 

"What made you start this tonight? Why now?" I ask him. We've got some things to clear up here, before I take a chance on getting my heart broken. I don't know if he'll answer me or not, he's not a real 'sharing' kind of guy. 

"I saw those men, in the parking lot at the store. I saw how sad you looked when they were kissing. You looked at me, and you looked so sad, and I just couldn't stand it. I didn't want you to be sad because I was afraid to kiss you." He's whispering to me, holding my face in his hands. His eyes are bright, his voice fierce, insistent. 

"Wow, Jim." He's being awfully candid. He's never like this about his feelings. "I'm surprised you're talking about this, like this. What's going through your head, man?" 

"Not my head, Blair. My heart. You went through my heart. With that sad smile. I want you to know how I feel about you. I want you to be happy. I want us to be together, the way they were." 

"God Jim. Are you talking about commitment here?" 

"No, I'm not." 

"What?! I told you I don't want a one-shot deal, man." 

"I'm talking about love, here, Blair. I love you. You have to know that. I want you to know that I love you. I promise we'll talk about commitment. How about we make an appointment?" He's ginning at me. He's up to something. 

"An appointment, Jim? You want to make an appointment to talk about commitment?" I'm a little confused here, but I think he's teasing. I think. 

"Yeah, how's forty years from now sound? I think I'll have some time then." Still grinning. 

"You fuck!" I grin back at him. "Better make it fifty. I think I'm gonna be busy for forty years." 

"Yeah? What you gonna be doing for forty years, Blair?" 

I push my hips against him, pressing my erection against his, grinding against him, hard and hot. And he groans. "This. I'm gonna be busy doing this." And he puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down and kisses me again. 

And we've finally, finally gotten here. 

* * *

End

 


End file.
